


sleeping on the job

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, bull has to take care of his small mage bf but that's ok, dorian is indignant but secretly loves being doted on, sera and blackwall get WASTED, solas tries to teach cole to play wicked grace, the inquisitor misses her fam, this is so gay kick me this is SO GAY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dorian pulls all-nighters. no one is impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleeping on the job

**Author's Note:**

> HEY WHAT'S UP  
> this is my second work for this game and this couple but it won't be the last i can assure you
> 
> so basically i wanted fic of bull carrying dorian around but i couldn't find any so i wrote my own

Bull found Dorian passed out, face down in a pile of books. He wasn’t surprised really, it wasn’t like it was an uncommon occurrence, but it was uncommon to find him passed out every day for two weeks. Dorian had spent the fortnight buried in his research. When he was conscious he tended to mutter about how close he was to finding Corypheus’s name.

Sighing, Bull scooped up the conked out mage easily with little reaction from Dorian besides a minute twitch in the corner of his mouth. Most recurring library-goers knew better than to pay the odd pair much mind at this point. Glancing up briefly, Bull caught a glimpse of Leliana leaning over the railing and hiding a smile behind her hand. He grinned at her, shifting Dorian to his other shoulder and giving her a mock salute.  

Her smile widened.

Heading out of the library into the main hall meant more attention, particularly from the many Orlesians who had taken up residence in Skyhold, much to Dorian and Iron Bull’s mutual displeasure.

_“They’re too stuck up.” Bull had groused._

_“Their clothing is gaudy.” Dorian had complained._

_“You’re one to talk.” Bull had taken great delight in pointing out._

_Dorian’s fist had made a satisfying **thwack** noise when it hit Bull’s chest._

Out of the corner of his eye Bull saw Varric sitting at his table looking smug. He made his way over.

“That’s, what? The third time this week?” Varric raised an eyebrow and gestured at Dorian’s sleeping form, currently slumped against the Bull’s chest. He was even starting to drool.

Bull shrugged with his other shoulder, careful not to jostle Dorian. “Yeah.” He rolled his eye. “He says he won’t stop ‘til he’s gotten the answers he wants. “ A sigh. “For his sake, I hope he finds it soon.”

Varric chucked quietly, a bit tiredly. “So do I. Honestly, I hope this whole thing is over soon.” He rubbed as his eyes. “I think I’m gonna turn in. You still up for Wicked Grace tomorrow night?”

Bull let out a laugh that was less a sound than a gust of breath. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said.  

“Good.” Varric grinned. Bull readjusted Dorian in his arms and with another smile in Varric’s direction, he walked out into the courtyard.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra demanded.

“Uh,” Bull said eloquently, “He fell asleep doing research. I’m gonna put him to bed.”

“He fell asleep again?” Cassandra sighed in exasperation. “He must take a day off.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bull half-teased.

“I do not research so deep into the night that I pass out  and have to be carried back to my rooms." She gestured vaguely at Dorian and where his makeup was rubbing off onto Bull’s chest. Bull futilely fought a smile.

“I’m hoping to get him to come with me to Varric’s Wicked Grace game tomorrow night. You coming?”

Cassandra grunted with poorly hidden disgust. “I suppose.” She unwrapped her hands and tossed the straps to the ground.“We’ll speak tomorrow.” She said with finality and took her leave.

Bull chuckled quietly at the Seeker’s temperament and walked, careful not to jostle his sleeping beau, into the tavern.

The Herald’s Rest was as loud as ever, possibly louder considering the ruckus a tipsy Sera and an utterly wasted Blackwall were making. Scanning the scene with his single eye, Bull saw that the rambunctious pair were attempting and succeeding to distract the gathered crowd from the presence of their beloved Inquisitor. Sera spotted Bull first and waved him over, elbowing Blackwall hard in the ribs. He rubbed his side and glared at Sera but looked where she was pointing before smiling broadly, broader than he would sober, and invited Bull over. Bull smirked at them, shaking his head and pointing at Dorian. They both made exasperated noises that were barely heard over the noise of the crowd, paired with disappointed faces. Bull snorted and waved to them before turning to find the Inquisitor at the bar.

The Inquisitor was hunched over the bar and wrapped in a worn cloak with the hood drawn up to cover most of her face, but Bull could see the smile that spread across it when he approached.  “Bull!” She exclaimed cheerfully.

“Heya boss.” He made a show of surveying her outfit. “I didn’t know they made cloaks that big. And how did you get it to fit over the horns?”

Adaar laughed. “Well, unlike yours my horns don’t jut out 2 feet from my body. Besides, I’ll have you know that this cloak was custom made by my older sister.” She sighed wistfully. “Though, if she saw the state of it now she’d probably scold me and immediately present me with a new one.”

“I bet Josephine could find a way to get your family here, if you asked.” Family seemed to shit things up a lot of the time in Bull’s opinion, especially in the case of the inner circle’s respective families, but the Inquisitor seemed to speak fondly of her’s whenever she was inclined to speak about them, so perhaps they would be an exception.

The Inquisitor’s eyes lit up. “You think so?” She asked excitedly.

Bull scoffed but he was smiling. “I’m pretty sure that woman can do anything, or at least find someone she can convince to do anything.”

“Well, alright then,” the Inquisitor smiled. “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.” She gestured to Dorian, who continued to sleep soundly through the entire exchange. “How’s he doing?”

Bull sighed. “He’s overworking himself, he’s exhausted, but I doubt he’ll listen to me or anyone else if they tell him to take a break.”

“You’re worried.”  Bull looked incredulously at her. Her eyebrows were raised and she looked surprised.

“‘Course I’m fucking worried, he’s working himself to the bone. He’s gonna crash sooner or later and when he does it won’t be pretty.” He considered his words. “Or maybe it will, because he’s always pretty, but it certainly won’t be a fun experience for anyone involved.”

Adaar seemed to backtrack. “I know that, I meant-” She looked sheepish, “I meant I thought you two were strictly, I dunno, friends-with-benefits?”

“Who knows what we are, at this point,” Bull said. “It’s whatever he wants it to be.”

“But what about you? No thought for your own happiness?”

“Whatever makes him happy,” Bull said in a way that brooked no argument, “makes me happy.”

“You’re a good man, Bull.” Adaar smiled softly, reaching up to pat Bull’s thick bicep kindly.

“Thanks, boss,” Bull said, warmth seeping into his voice. He patted her hand and promised to spar with her at a later date before ambling quietly up the stairs. Solas was teaching Cole how to play Wicked Grace, and he nodded at Bull as he passed.

 

Finally, Bull made it into his room. Well, he called it his room but it was really more their room. He ungracefully dumped Dorian onto the bed, which had the mage sputtering in sleepy surprise and outrage. “What are you doing?!” He asked irritably. “I was doing rese- What are we doing in your room?”

“You passed out on a pile of books again.” Bull sat down on the bed next to him and started undoing his leg brace. “They don’t make for a very comfortable headrest, I’m guessing.”

Dorian tittered, sinking back into the bed. “Not really, no.” He said, amusement coloring his voice. “I’m just so-”

“Close, I know.” Bull sighed. “I wish you’d take a break,” He tapped the side of Dorian’s head affectionately. “All that brainpower isn’t gonna go to much use if you can barely function.”

Dorian propped himself up on an elbow and rubbed his eyes. “I suppose that’s true...”

Bull snorted and flopped backwards on the bed so that he was laying on Dorian’s legs. Dorian made an undignified squawking noise, which he would later deny, and fruitlessly tried to push him off. Laughing, Bull rolled off and manhandled Dorian to the side so he could lie down next to him. “Come play Wicked Grace with us tomorrow,” Bull proposed. “Even Cassandra’s coming.”

“And I wouldn’t dare be more of a stick in the mud than her.” Dorian concluded. He sighed. “Alright. I’ll be there.” He rolled over to face Bull, who was smiling warmly.

“I’m glad, _kadan_ ,” he said. Dorian sighed in fond exasperation.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” He asked. “It had better not be an insult.”

“Soon, I’ll tell you. But not right now,” Bull briefly pressed his lips to Dorian’s forehead. “Go to sleep.”

Dorian yawned.

“Gladly.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, comments, promos and bookmarks are appreciated and encouraged!


End file.
